The Secret Letter
by yipyop
Summary: Taken place right after the movie, Victoria realizes that she must go into her year of mourning before marrying her true love. What's more, thoughts of Emily's fate won't leave her. And the real question is; did Victor love her instead of Victoria? VxV
1. What Happened After

**I.**

The two lovers gazed up at the sky in disbelief, watching as the flock of blue butterflies, moonlight reflecting from their shiny wings and creating a silver glow, flew into the large, white moon. Victoria could barely believe what a noble sacrifice the corpse woman had done for her and Victor. She dearly hoped she would rest in peace, and that Victoria would see her again someday.

As Victoria stared up at the moon, she felt Victor's thin hand grasp her left shoulder and pull her into his chest. She snuggled up against him as he rested his cheek on her head. Victoria shivered. She never found out if it was from the chilly night, or just the fact that she was so close to Victor that she could feel his warm breath.

They stood there for a while, holding each other close, daring not to speak, feeling words weren't sufficient to hold the moment. Victoria was a bit surprised that Victor had been so forward. It was only a long-lasting hug, but he almost never touched her before. She knew how shy he was, probably even more shy than herself. And that was very shy indeed.

Just when Victoria couldn't think her love could be anymore straightforward, he bent down, a little hesitantly, and kissed her forehead lightly. She felt her face go warm and looked up into his eyes, only to find that his cheeks seemed pink as well.

"Victoria…" his voice shook a little. Oh, how much she missed his voice! "I…I've missed you…"

The young woman snuggled closer. "And I you, Victor. I thought I'd lost you forever…" her voice cracked at the thought of never seeing him again. She felt hot tears press against her eyes, the same ones she had been holding in when she found out Victor was with another and she was told to marry Lord Barkis. She had always thought that she was too sensitive. She turned away from him and wiped her eyes. Victor didn't remove his hand from her shoulder, a worried expression on his face. Clearly, he didn't know what to do.

At his gentle touch, she tried to suppress her sobs, but her shoulders shook ever harder. She was scared. What would have happened if Victor let Barkis take her away was too horrible to imagine. If Victor hadn't stood up for her like that (and the Corpse Bride!) Victoria might have been dead…or worse. Victoria clasped her hands over her eyes and sniffled loudly. She shook, embarrassed.

What she expected was for Victor to stand there, patting her shoulder awkwardly, waiting for her to stop sobbing. She didn't blame him. After all, she had never cried in front of anyone before, with the exception of her maid and her mother when she was a little girl. Her mother used to slap her on the mouth and scold, "Proper young ladies never cry in public! Dry those tears, you foolish child!" And Victoria would cry all the harder.

What she didn't expect was for Victor (still awkwardly, mind you) to turn her around and take her into his arms once more. She openly sobbed onto his chest, and he rubbed her back soothingly, occasionally mumbling, "Sh…it's alright, I'm right here." After what seemed like forever, Victoria's sobs slowed down into steady breathing and sniffles.

Finally, Victoria stood back a little; Victor's hands still around her back, and wiped her eyes. "Forgive me, Victor…I…I don't know what came over me…" she smiled sheepishly. Victor smiled back at her and pressed his forehead against hers. They closed their eyes, feeling each other's breath on their faces. She rested her hands on his chest. Suddenly he opened his eyes, the old worry back within them.

"Er…Victoria…" he said slowly. "You know…I felt so…empty without you these past few days because…you were the one light I ever had in my dull life. From the moment I first saw you, I fell in love with you…" he blushed, and said the words hurriedly, trying to get them out. Victoria listened intently. He was being so open with her, and looked terribly uncomfortable, but at the same time, calm. "Before, I was always worried about what my expectations were. I was alone, always listening to the orders of other people. I was as good as dead. But then on meeting you…I…I came alive when I met you, Victoria and…" his voice trailed off, nearly at a whisper. "There's…there's no one else I'd rather spend my life with than you…" He averted her gaze and slid his hands off her waist, but took her hands in his. He held them there, looking like he didn't know what to do next, until he finally looked up into her eyes.

Victoria gazed into his eyes, hers shimmering with tears once again. She found her voice after a while, and muttered, "That…that was the nicest thing anyone has ever…" she placed her hand over her mouth and shook again.

The shy man bent down to look into her face and to gently place a hand on her cheek. "Victoria…I love you…I really do. Will you be my wife…again?"

She could barely suppress her joy. She clasped her hands in front of her face. "Oh, yes, yes! Of course I will!"

"Oh, no you _won't!"_

Both Victor and Victoria jumped at the sudden noise and looked around, wondering where it had come from. Victoria nearly groaned out loud to see her own mother storming towards them, all etiquette forgotten. Her father was trying to keep up, waddling from behind and breathing as if he had run across the vast mountains instead of across the street. Mrs. Everglot reached them and grabbed her daughter's hand, pulling the girl away from her love.

_"Victoria!"_ she scolded in that voice that made Victoria want to cringe. "What do you think you are doing? Running off like that, and in the arms of someone who is not your husband, nonetheless!" She put the back of her hand to her head dramatically. "You have brought shame to this family!"

Victoria stepped back to Victor and tried to explain. "Mother, please! Lord Barkis is _dead!_ He died by his own hand."

Mrs. Everglot gave a loud gasp. "Finis! _Finis!_ Do you hear the vulgarity coming from your daughter's mouth?" Mr. Everglot had finally caught up. Victoria looked at her parents, determined.

"Mother, Father," she said as calmly as she could. "Death has parted myself and…my husband. I was rather hoping, well…"

"That is to say, _we,"_ Victor had snuck up behind her, sounding extremely nervous. After all, who wasn't scared of Victoria's beastly mother? "We…um…we were hoping that we could continue with the previous plans…Victoria and I…" his voice trailed off as he looked hopefully at the witch before him. She glared, never really liking the Van Dort boy at all. But, if Lord Barkis was, in fact, dead, then what would she do for money? She stared daggers at him.

"Well, if it were that simple, I would have suggested it myself, now wouldn't I, Mr. Van Dort?" He gulped. "But, unfortunately…" she grabbed her daughter's hand from his and pulled her dangerously close. "…Since Victoria's husband has passed away, it seems fitting that she will have to go through her year of mourning."

Victoria gave an audible gasp. A whole year? She couldn't stay locked up in her room without Victor for an entire year!

"But…but mother!" she stammered. "I…I did not love him! Barkis was a beast…a _murderer!_ Is there no other way…?"

Victoria's mother slapped her daughter. "Hush, child! You will go through your mourning starting tonight. Then you will marry…" she sent a disgusted look in Victor's direction. He didn't flinch, obviously angry that Mrs. Everglot had hit Victoria. "…You will marry the boy. Now come." The mother dragged Victoria away towards their manor across the street, her father groaning and following behind. Victoria stared longingly back at Victor and reached a hand out to the man out of her reach, feeling like she would cry all over again.

Victoria nearly had her heart broken from not seeing Victor for three days. Imagine what a whole year would do!

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**Thank you very much for reading! I thought the world needed more VictorxVictoria stories, so here it is! I know a lot of people prefer Emily and Victor to Victoria, but in the grand scheme of things, Emily had already lived her life and Fate happened to play the worst cards for the poor corpse bride. But the whole movie was about her letting go and being free. Victor was always in love with Victoria, even if Emily was entrancing. Emily's my favorite character! **

**Anyway, this story is mostly told from Victoria's point of view.**

**I have about 3 stories in the process right now, so perhaps I shouldn't have posted this one yet. I'm working on "Always, Always a Bridesmaid" (sonamy), "Sectumsempra" (Harry Potter), and this one. So please don't yell at me if I update a little late. I recommend reading my other fanfics, please! Comments are always treasured. **

**Thank you for reading! May your sword and pencil stay sharp always!**

**~FallenRose19**

**P.S. I really think Emily and Victoria would have been such great friends…**


	2. Pages, Words, Speak

**II.**

The rooster crowed on the first morning of mourning. Victoria sat up in bed and stretched as a gloomy feeling washed over her. And it wasn't just for the lack of sunlight, either. Her head felt too heavy to stay sitting up, so she flopped back down on the mattress. She was in mourning. Not for Barkis, of course, but for being away from Victor. So she decided to live up to her expectations and feel miserable.

She realized the more she lay in her bed; the more the sad thoughts swirled around in her head. Victor had been the only thing she had looked forward to seeing every day. Now she couldn't even do that. The image of her mother pushed its way into her mind, and she felt like smacking it.

There was a gentle knock on the door. "Miss Victoria? Your breakfast." The door opened and in stepped the elderly maid carrying a tray of porridge, juice, and a biscuit. Victoria sighed and turned over to her other side on the mattress.

"Thank you, Hildegarde. Just leave it on the table. I'm not hungry this morning…" Come to think of it, she was probably too sick with grief to eat.

The old maid nodded and set the tray down on the little desk near the window. She turned over to Victoria again.

"Would you like to get dressed, dearie?" she asked kindly. Victoria sighed and sat up.

"I suppose so," she muttered.

Victoria stripped of her black nightgown and quickly held up her corset to cover her front as she sat down in the chair of her vanity. Hildegarde started lacing the corset with speed and skill…and tightness.

"Do you mind…" Victoria whispered to her maid, as if afraid that someone would overhear. "Do you mind…I mean, do you think you could make it a little looser today? Since I won't be going out, that is…"

The elderly maid smiled knowingly and stopped tugging at the laces. It would be nice to breathe for once. But Victoria would never just remove the corset. It seemed so improper, and it would feel like she was missing something if she took it off. At least now with it loosened, she could fill up her entire lungs, and it felt wonderful.

With Victoria's corset on, Hildegarde shuffled over to Victoria's closet and pulled out a black gown. It was the same style as all of Victoria's other dresses, only depressingly black. It came with a small, dark veil to cover her eyes. The old maid came back to Victoria and made a gesture for her to stand. The young girl sighed and stood, stepping into her mourning dress while her maid buttoned up the back.

"Oh, Hildegarde," Victoria said, since her maid was really the only person she could share her hopes and dreams with without laughing at her. "I don't think I can wait this long without word from Victor…locked up in my room without anyone to talk to…" she sighed, and the maid said nothing.

Hildegarde finished buttoning up the dress and handed Victoria the veil. She took it and set it down on her vanity next to her brush, which she picked up and started combing the snarls out of her long, brown hair. She set down her brush and sighed heavily. Hildegarde turned to leave, but before reaching the door, she said quietly, "Just like Romeo and Juliet," and she left, shaking her head sadly.

Victoria finished putting her hair in a loose bun and placed the veil over her eyes. She checked herself in the mirror.

Her face had always been pale, but was it always this pale? It seemed as white as the corpse bride's wedding veil, and her eyes were as dark as the corpse's as well. There it was again! Thinking about the corpse bride only made Victoria feel sad, and a little guilty. Did she take Victor from the bride? Well, Victor and her were betrothed before, but…she couldn't help feeling sorry for the woman whose tragic past dwindled in her mind like a bad dream. She didn't even know the woman's name.

Victoria stood up and turned away from the mirror, trying to stop feeling sorry for the bride and feeling miserable. She was happy to see that the fire was lit and made her way over to the sofa, blowing on her hands and warming them by the flames. Almost as suddenly as a nightmare, the thought came to Victoria like an arrow through her head. A horrible, heart wrenching thought:

_ What if Victor was in love with the corpse bride as she was with him?_

Victoria nearly stopped breathing. After all, the corpse bride (oh, how she wished she knew her name!) was very beautiful. She was outgoing, musical, and very selfless from what Victoria had seen. She had also defended and saved Victor's life from Lord Barkis…she was a very noble person indeed. What if Victor loved her? Did he regret marrying Victoria?

The young girl shook her head to rid it of her thoughts. _Of course not, don't be silly, _one voice said.

_Still,_ another whispered. _It's not impossible._

"Oh, shut up!" Victoria hissed. This was a question to ask Victor in person, no matter how much he fidgeted when she did.

Just then, another thought came to her mind. A memory, actually. Victoria stood and walked away from the warmth of the fire and to her wardrobe. She knelt down and pulled open the very bottom drawer, pulling out fistfuls of handkerchiefs that protected the treasure within. With trembling hands, Victoria reached in once more to extract a small wrapped package, or at least that's what it looked like. She gently removed the brown paper from the treasure to reveal a bouquet of dried flowers that had taken a bluish tint: roses, baby's breath, lilies…

Victoria cradled the dead flowers as delicately as you would a newborn. The Corpse Bride's bouquet felt like it would fall to pieces at any given moment, but Victoria held it as dear as she would a child, touching it gently. She could smell a hint of the flower's fragrance, now gone and forgotten. Perhaps she just imagined it.

She wished she could see the corpse bride again. If only she could thank her, to tell her she was forever grateful and to rest in peace now.

"It just isn't fair," she said to herself. "The way she died. Her life was taken from her along with her dreams of becoming a bride…" _That's why she fell in love with Victor,_ she thought. Victoria gave the bouquet a sad smile. "I hope we can see each other again someday." The woman carefully placed the bouquet back into its paper and into its drawer and stood to leave.

_It's like the pages of a book, _she thought to herself. _Old and dusty, thought to be dead. But the words on the page speak a story and keep it alive._

Victoria stopped dead in her tracks, frozen.

Pages, words, speak…

A new excitement welled up in her chest, one she hadn't felt since the night before when Victor held her in his arms. She raced to her writing desk and pulled out a piece of parchment, a quill and ink, and an envelope.

Why hadn't she thought of it before?

oOoOoOoOoOoOo


	3. The Letter

**III.**

Victoria dipped her quill in the bottle of ink, hands shaking with anticipation. She poised the quill over the yellow parchment and began to write.

Day 1

_Dear Victor,_

_It has only been a day (not even) and I already miss you dearly. The events of the past few days, especially last night, continue playing over and over in my head. I keep thinking about the corpse bride…what was her name? I think she was beautiful…inside and out. I wish I could see her once more and thank her. Perhaps we'll meet again someday. I hope so, more than anything._

Victoria's quill hovered. She wanted to keep writing (time flies when you're having fun) but she didn't want to bore Victor, either. What was she going to say? "I stay holed up in my room all day, dress in black, sew, and think unhappy thoughts." So she tried to finish up.

_So how has your day gone so far? Just about 364 days to go. Oh, how I wish I had a book with me…mother says books kill the brain. Ha! The only way I can pass the time is staring at the dancing flames in the fireplace, quilt or do my embroidery, and write my letters to you. I cannot sleep. I don't get enough activity in the day to feel tired at all._

She knew it sounded quite lame, so she added,

_I miss you. Please write soon._

And now to finish up…

_Sincerely,_

_Victoria Everglot_

Now, that wouldn't do. Too formal. "Perhaps if I get rid of my last name…'love' would sound nice…"

_Love, _

_Victoria_

It still needed something…Victoria remembered a quote from a play or an opera she once saw…that might work…

_All my love,_

_Victoria_

Yes, that would do nicely for now. Victoria sat back in her chair and read her letter from start to finish.

Day 1

_Dear Victor,_

_It has only been a day (not even) and I already miss you dearly. The events of the past few days, especially last night, continue playing over and over in my head. I keep thinking about the corpse bride…what was her name? I think she was beautiful…inside and out. I wish I could see her once more and thank her. Perhaps we'll meet again someday. I hope so, more than anything._

_So how has your day gone so far? Just about 364 days to go. Oh, how I wish I had a book with me…mother says books melt the brain. Ha! The only way I can pass the time is staring at the dancing flames in the fireplace, quilt or do my embroidery, and write my letters to you. I cannot sleep. I don't get enough activity in the day to feel tired at all._

_I miss you. Please write soon._

_All my love,_

Victoria

"I guess that's good enough for now," she said as she blew on the wet ink, folded it neatly, and slipped it into the envelope, addressing it to Victor Van Dort. She sat back to admire her finished work and sighed contentedly.

"Perfect," she smiled. "Now all I have to do is…"

Victoria's heart sank into her stomach. She had forgotten one very important detail…

How was she supposed to send it?

Victoria groaned audibly. How could she have missed that? Now what was she supposed to do?

With the old gloom back within her, Victoria shuffled over to her balcony and opened the glass doors, stepping out into the chilly, gray morning. With her letter still clutched in one hand, she leaned over the balcony to look out at the bustling world below. Old men passed in the street. She recognized her elderly neighbor, Gertrude, who was usually very rude and short-tempered. But ever since she had seen her deceased husband of 15 years just last night, well, you can imagine how she changed. She smiled at passerby and even made conversation. Victoria rested her chin in her hand and watched the townspeople with a weary expression.

Suddenly, a very tall, handsome individual caught her eye. She did a double take and there, in the middle of the town square, strolled Victor Van Dort, with a thin book under his arm. Victoria's heart leaped in her chest and she wanted to call out to him, but she knew how improper it was for a lady to yell, let alone talk to anyone while in mourning. If she could somehow grab his attention…

"Victoria! What do you think you are _doing?!"_

A long, bony hand gripped her left shoulder and yanked her back onto her feet, for she had been leaning so far off the balcony her feet had lifted into the air. Victoria quickly hid her letter in both hands behind her back and hung her head, faking shame.

"Hanging over the balcony like an old rag doll!" Mrs. Everglot shook a scolding finger at her daughter. "You might have fallen and broken your fragile little neck! What might the neighbors think of me then?"

Victoria stole a quick glance back down into the streets for Victor, and was relieved to see he was no longer there. If her mother had seen him…

"Get back into the house, child!"

Victoria quickly scuttled back into her room with her hands still behind her. Mother shut the balcony door and pulled out a gold key. _CLICK. _Victoria's heart plunged lower. At least she was able to see Victor for a waking moment.

Just as Mrs. Everglot was headed for the door, an idea came to Victoria.

"Um…mother?" she asked tentatively. Mrs. Everglot turned slowly around, annoyed, and placed both hands on her hips.

"Um…I was just wondering if you could send Hildegarde up…I…my corset doesn't feel tight enough," she blurted.

Her mother gave a grim smile. "Of course, Victoria." She turned on her heel and left, returning moments later with the elderly maid. Victoria's mother left and slammed the door.

Hildegarde shuffled up to Victoria. "Need help, Miss?"

Victoria lowered her voice. "Yes, I do." She quickly glanced at the door and pulled the letter from behind her back. "I need you to mail this letter, Hildegarde. And you mustn't let anyone know you're doing it. _Please_," she begged, holding out the letter even further. "Please do this for me."

The old maid looked torn. She could never disobey her masters' orders. Then again, she very much cared for Victoria, and hated to see her drowned in the misery that so often consumed her.

The old lady sighed and reluctantly held out her hand. "I don't like seeing you so unhappy all the time," she smiled. Victoria rushed over to hug her maid.

"Thank you, Hildegarde!" she could hardly believe it. "And bring me back his reply, won't you?"

Hildegarde nodded, took the letter, and left the room without another word.

Just as the maid softly closed the door behind her, Victoria felt like leaping for joy. But it was highly improper. She covered her mouth with both hands and squealed. So what of the impropriety? No thrill felt better than hiding a secret from her mother and waiting for another love note in reply from someone like Victor…

She sighed like a lovesick little schoolgirl and flopped down on her bed.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo


	4. The Legend of the Corpse Bride

**IV.**

_"HILDEGARDE!_ Hurry up with that breakfast tray, won't you?" Mr. Everglot thundered from his upstairs bedroom.

The old maid shook her head as she grabbed the breakfast tray and headed up the stairs to her master's bedroom. She was already halfway up when there was a knock at the door. Emil the butler scuttled over immediately and reached for the doorknob, but Hildegarde was there in an instant, as fast and agile as someone half her age.

She blocked the door with her body and said silkily as if she had nothing to hide, "No need, Emil. Lady Everglot has insisted I collect the mail from now on. She is expecting something only women should know about, so I wouldn't ask her if I were you. It would save you some embarrassment. Would you mind taking up that breakfast tray for me? Thank you, dearie."

The butler raised an eyebrow, but knew Hildegarde well enough to trust her. Besides, he wouldn't want to ask Lady Everglot of any "womanly things" anyway.

_What a fool,_ Hildegarde thought slyly as the butler shrugged and headed for the stairs with the breakfast tray in hand. As quick as a wink, the old maid opened the door, thanked the mailman, and took the pile of letters before shutting the door quietly. She leafed through the mail. She was never snoopy, but she was expecting something from a certain someone.

_Goodness, certainly are a lot of bills this week,_ she thought. The Everglots were deeply in debt, which was why they needed to marry off Victoria in the first place.

_Such a sweet girl, _thought Hildegarde. _She just makes me want to serve her all the more._

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Victoria dressed herself this morning. She couldn't sleep a wink, wondering if Victor received her letter and would write back today.

_Mustn't get your hopes up,_ her sensible side urged. _Maybe he didn't even read it yet. He might still have feelings for his previous wife._

_Oh, come off it, _the other side argued. _Getting your hopes up is better than having no hope at all._

Victoria straightened her veil nervously, waiting for her maid to bring up the breakfast tray and, hopefully, an envelope addressed to her. She jumped at any sudden noise thinking, _Could that be Hildegarde?_

But it never was. Victoria was faced off with time, and was forced to wait.

It was only day two. If time was passing this slowly, Victoria felt she would be old and weary by the end of the year. Hopefully Victor would still love her then…

She shook her head. Negativity never solved anything. She had to wait for his reply, then she would decide whether to be negative or not.

The door creaked open and Victoria spun around quickly, barely able to suppress a smile. She was never so happy to see her maid! The young girl rushed over to Hildegarde and beamed down at her.

"Morning, Hildegarde," she said sweetly.

"Your breakfast, dearie," the maid said, setting down the tray on the tiny table near the fire. "And I've got something else for you…"

Victoria's heart fluttered when the old lady reached behind her back, but instead of pulling out a letter, she pulled out a hardcover book.

"I asked your mother to give you something to do," she said. "And she obliged. It's one of my personal books. Enjoy, Victoria." And with that, the maid turned to the door.

Victoria stood there, rooted to the spot with the book in her hands. She was expecting Hildegarde to turn around at any moment and say something like, "Just kidding!" and pull out a letter from Victor from behind her back. But no. Hildegarde shuffled to the door like always and closed it softly behind her, locking it like her mother told her to.

She didn't understand. Victoria sat lifelessly on her bed. Why wouldn't he write back? Did he even receive her letter? Maybe he did. Maybe not. Did he even try writing back? Was he too afraid of what her parents would say? Was he too shy? Whatever the reason, Victoria was not happy about it and tossed the book across the room so it landed in the corner. She wasn't angry with Victor, only a little scared.

_Does he really have feelings for his previous wife instead of me?_

The thought made her stomach churn, and suddenly, she wasn't hungry anymore.

The hours drifted by as Victoria sat expressionless on her bed and stared out the window on another cold, gray day. She could barely feel the warmth from the fireplace, but didn't feel like moving an inch. Finally, at lunchtime when Hildegarde came in with another tray of food, Victoria started. She hadn't realized she had been motionless for so long.

The maid noticed the untouched tray of food and clucked her tongue.

"What's wrong, dearie?" she asked, setting down the lunch tray and shuffling over to the bed. Victoria only sighed.

"Oh, nothing." She was a horrible liar.

The maid patted the girl's pale hand. "There, there, dear. Now, why don't you have a bite to eat and read a little Shakespeare? Here…" the old woman bent down and picked up the novel Victoria had thrown earlier and dusted it off a bit. She handed the red hardcover to the girl. "Trust me, you'll feel better." And the maid left silently as a mouse.

Victoria set the book aside and picked up a small piece of bread and began to chew. She did feel a little better. Then she started in on her soup. She hadn't realized how hungry she was.

When there wasn't a drop left in her bowl and the slice of bread was reduced to crumbs, Victoria looked around for something to do.

_Quilting?_ She thought to herself_. No, no. I did that yesterday…Perhaps I could work on my embroidery…no. I'm not in the mood…I could write something?_

Yes, that might have to do for now. She hadn't even glanced at the book at her side, forgetting all about it during the course of her meal.

She got up from her bed and strode over to the writing desk, picking up a piece of yellow parchment and her quill. She wrote about the only thing that was on her mind – the corpse bride. Of course, Victoria didn't know the whole story, so she made one up on her own.

_Once upon a time there was a young man who lived in a village in Russia. He was to be married and he and his friend prepared to go to the village where his bride-to-be lived, two days walk from his own village._

_The first night the two friends decided to set up camp by a river. The young man who was going to be married spotted an unusual looking stick in the ground that looked like a bony finger. He and his friend started joking about this bony finger sticking out of the ground and the young man who was going to be married took the golden wedding ring from his pocket and put it on the strange-looking stick. And then he started to do the wedding dance around the stick; he danced around the stick with the golden wedding ring three times and he sang the Jewish wedding song, and recited the entire marriage sacrament as he danced around the stick, he and his friend laughing the whole time. _

_Their fun stopped suddenly when the earth started rumbling and shaking beneath their feet. The place where the stick had been opened up and a very bedraggled looking corpse emerged, a living corpse, she had been a bride, but now was barely more than a skeleton held together by shreds of skin, still wearing an old torn white silk wedding dress. Worms and spider webs hung on the once-beaded bodice and tattered veil. The two young men were aghast. "Ah," she said, "you have done the wedding dance and pronounced the marriage vows and you have put a ring on my finger. Now we are man and wife. I demand my rights as your bride."_

_Shuddering with terror at the corpse bride's words, the two young men fled to the village where the young bride was waiting to be married. They went straight to the rabbi. "Rabbi," asked the young man breathlessly, "I have a very important question to ask you. If by some chance you're walking in the woods and you happen to see a stick that looks like a long bony finger coming out of the ground and you happen to put a golden wedding ring on the finger and do the wedding dance and pronounce the wedding vows, is this indeed a real marriage?"_

_Looking very puzzled, the rabbi asked, "Do you know of such a situation?" "Oh no, no, of course not, it's just a hypothetical question." Stroking his long beard thoughtfully, the rabbi said, "let me think about it." And just then, a big gust of wind blew the door open, and in walked the corpse bride. "I lay claim to this man as my husband, for he has placed this wedding ring on my finger and pronounced the solemn marriage vows," she demanded, her bony finger rattling as she shook it at her intended bridegroom._

_"This is indeed a very serious matter. I'll have to consult with the other rabbis," said the rabbi. Soon all the rabbis from the surrounding villages were gathered together. They went into conference, while the two young men anxiously awaited their decision. The corpse bride waited on the porch tapping her foot, declaring, "I want to celebrate my wedding night with my husband."_

_These chilling words made every hair on the young man's body stand on end, though it was a warm summer day. While the rabbis were conferring, the real human bride arrived and wanted to know what all the fuss was about. When her fiancé explained just what had happened, she started weeping, "Oh, my life is ruined, all my hopes and dreams are shattered; I'll never be married, never have a family."_

_Just then the rabbis came out and asked: "Did you indeed put a gold ring_ _on the finger, and did you dance around it three times and did you indeed pronounce the wedding vows in their entirety?" The two young men who by this time were cowering in a far corner nodded their heads. _

_Looking very serious the rabbis went back to confer again. And the young bride wept bitter tears, while the corpse bride was by now gloating at the prospect of her long awaited wedding night. After a short while the rabbis solemnly marched out, took their seats, and announced, "Since you put the wedding ring on the finger of the corpse bride and you danced around it three times reciting the wedding vows, we have determined that this constitutes a proper wedding ceremony. Even so, we have decided that the dead have no claim upon the living."_

_Sighing and murmuring could be heard from all corners, the young bride was especially relieved. The corpse bride, however, howled, "Oh, there goes my last chance for a life; I'll never have my dreams fulfilled now, it's forever lost," and she collapsed on the floor. It was a pathetic sight, a heap of bones in a tattered wedding gown, lying there, lifeless._

_Overcome with compassion for the corpse bride, the young bride knelt down and gathered up that old heap of bones, carefully arranging the shredded silk finery and holding her close, half sang, half murmured, as if cradling a crying infant, "Don't worry I'll live your dreams for you, I'll live your hopes for you, I'll have your children for you, I'll have enough children for the two of us and you can rest in peace knowing that our children and our children's children will be well cared for and will not forget us."_

_Tenderly she closed the eyes of the corpse bride, tenderly she held her in_ _her arms and slowly and with measured steps she marched down to the river with her fragile charge, took her down by the river where she dug a shallow grave for her and laid her in it and crossed the bony arms over the bony chest, the one hand clasping the one with the ring on it, and folded the wedding gown around her. Then she whispered, "May you rest in peace, I will live your dreams for you, don't worry, we will not forget you."_

_The corpse bride looked happy and at peace in her new grave, as if she somehow knew that she would be fulfilled through this young bride. And the young bride covered up, slowly, the corpse bride, covered up the tattered wedding gown in the shallow grave, covered it all up with earth, then put wildflowers all over the grave and stones all around it._

_Then the young bride went back to her fiancé and they were married in a very solemn wedding ceremony and they lived many happy years together. And all their children and grandchildren and great grandchildren were always told the story of the corpse bride, and so she was not forgotten, nor was the wisdom and compassion she had taught them forgotten either._

She lifted her pen and ceased writing. She read it over. Again and again. This wasn't what happened at all, but, Victoria realized, she felt it could have. Perhaps this was what the corpse bride was feeling when she found out about Victor seeing Victoria? Angry, betrayed, lonely, sadness? But perhaps the end was what Victoria wished to say to the corpse bride. _"I'll live your dreams for you…"_

Victoria shook her head, deciding she was being silly, and stuffed the papers away in a drawer. Still, it couldn't help to dream…

Well, what now? She had a book. What did it matter that Victor had decided not to write? Victoria reached out for the beautifully blood red book with silver letters forming the words "_Romeo and Juliet._"

She grinned and piled up pillows at the head of her bed, settled down with a flickering candle on her nightstand, and began to read.

It was beautifully written, and the romance and suspense was killing her. Hours passed by without her even noticing, until the sky grew darker and darker and Victoria read the last sentence of the book aloud to herself.

_''For never was a story of more woe_

_Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.'" _

Victoria almost cried. The story was so heartbreaking, yet so beautiful. She needed a good cry that had nothing to do with her own troubles. She reached over to her nightstand (the candle was only an inch high by now) to grab her handkerchief, but the book had slipped off her lap and onto the floor. Victoria quickly reached down and pulled it back up onto the bed, when she noticed something slipped out of it.

"Oh, I do hope I haven't ripped a page…"

The girl leaned down again and took hold of the parchment. But it wasn't the page of a book at all.

It was an envelope.

Breathless, hardly daring to believe it, the girl hurriedly sat back on her pillows and slit open the envelope quickly. She pulled out the letter, feeling as if she were in a dream. She read it in a whisper.

_Dear Victoria,_

_My daily routine is hardly worth doing without thinking I may see you at the end of the day! I, too, miss you very much, and time could never go slower. The corpse bride you ask? Emily. Her name was Emily. And, yes. She was very noble, indeed. We shall never forget her. _

_I was just walking through the streets today (father needed help with the fish counting…ugh) when I looked up and I saw you! Standing with your back turned on your balcony. I wanted to call out to you, but I noticed your mother and…well, you can understand she makes me nervous. _

_Mourning does sound quite a bore. I wish I could just see you again! You can't come out to your balcony, I've heard from Hildegarde. There must be another way. I can hardly stay sane without you to bring that light into my life…forgive me if I seem forward. I could never say something like this face to face with you…unless you count last night where my mouth just wouldn't listen to my head!_

_Please write back soon. I long for the mornings when your letters come._

_I miss you very much. _

_With love and impatience, _

_Victor_

Victoria finished on a very happy note. She realized a few things:

One, Victor cared very much for her.

Two, so he _did_ see her on her balcony! She hope he hadn't seen her rear end sticking up in the air when she leaned out too far…

And three…the corpse bride finally had a name.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

DISCLAIMER! I do not own any of the characters reflected in this story. They are all property of Tim Burton. The story Victoria writes about the corpse bride is not mine at all – it's the real folktale of the corpse bride. I thought it would be neat that Victoria was the one who wrote it… AUTHOR'S NOTE

**Again, thanks so much for reading! (PLEASE READ THE DISCLAIMER!) Really, do it. This is an especially long chapter, but that's because of the folktale Victoria writes (again, SEE DISCLAIMER!). You know what? Almost every single story written on about romances in the Corpse Bride is all about Victor and Emily, and a lot bash Victoria. I don't like it. I really don't. I've said so many times; Victor loves Victoria. He loved Emily, too, but in a different way, not really romantic. Emily and Victoria would have been such great friends… Well, comment as always! Thank you so much for reading!**


	5. Doubt

**V.**

And so, the letters continued, back and forth from the two lovers. Victoria was forever grateful to her maid for risking so much for her, and said so often. Hildegarde would always just smile and continue dressing Victoria, bringing up breakfast, or other books to hide the letters in. Victoria would read most of the day and night and finish her book, so she could have a fresh novel delivered to her come morning…along with news from Victor.

It was the morning of the 27th day when Hildegarde shuffled back into Victoria's room to deliver another letter. No matter how many times Victoria received one, she always felt a brand new jolt of excitement. The girl, already dressed in her black attire and ready to read her letter, thanked her maid yet again and sat by the fire to read.

_My Dear Victoria,_

_Almost a month has gone by since your mourning began. I take a small comfort in knowing there are only eleven more to go…_

_As you can plainly see, writing to you is so much easier than talking in person. You know me; I get so flustered around you…even now I think I've said too much. I really wish we could talk face-to-face…just so I can get over my fear. _

_Anyway, the weather doesn't seem to be changing at all, but what else is new? I honestly don't think I ever remember a sunny day in this gloomy little town. You should have seen the Land of the Dead. It was bright, musical, jazzy and friendly and…well, fun. Why can't the real world be like that?_

_I remember the very first day we met as clearly as if it were yesterday. You startled me quite a bit as I made my fumbling apologies and you just stood there, smiling. I loved your smile from the beginning, you know. Anyway, you seemed to be the only one who shared my love for music, though your mother thought it was improper. Whenever I tripped over my words or even my own feet, you never stopped to laugh at me, call me a ninny or a fool…you are just so different from everyone else I had ever met…_

_Anyway, of course I'm straying away from the topic. But I was thinking that, well, you do seem to love music and I hate that your parents deprive you from it so…I was hoping that, when we get married, perhaps I could teach you the piano? It's all right if you don't want to I just…well, let me know._

_We really need to find a way to see each other without getting caught…_

_Please reply, as always._

_All my love,_

_Victor_

Victoria sighed dreamily, set the letter in the secret box under her pillow (especially for Victor's letters) and hurried over to her desk to pull out her ink. She made herself comfortable and began to write.

_My Dearest Victor,_

_Oh, I can hardly wait for your novel! Now I'll really know what happened down there with Emily…Speaking of which, do you remember her lovely bouquet of flowers she gave me before she left? I still have them. It seemed wrong to throw them away, and I want to keep her memory alive…_

_I do wish I could see her again. But I have a feeling we will, someday._

_Of course speaking in writing is much easier than having to talk to someone's face. I feel the same way. My reticent nature has always made it hard for me to socialize…especially as a child. My mother had never let me out of her sight, with her rigorous attitude towards me and making sure I grow up a "proper young lady." I guess she was so determined because when I was but a little child I…I used to bite things. Please don't ask why, I have no idea. Honestly, I would chew on my father's sleeve, bite table legs, mother's hand…actually I find it rather funny. Hildegarde says my teeth were as razor sharp as a steak knife. I never would have shared this with you if I didn't love you so much. And since we're getting married anyway…I thought you might laugh out loud at this. And who knows? We may both burst into laughter at the alter; while our parents look on, flabbergasted. _

_Victor? I have a somewhat absurd thing to ask you, and I won't be offended if you don't answer, but I've been wondering…did you love Emily? I hope more than anything that I didn't take you away from something you wanted…She was lovely, and I really do want you to be happy if we do marry, and not feeling regret. This is just a little something I need to know. I feel no jealousy towards her._

_I think I hear my mother coming upstairs. I'd better stop._

_Just remember I love you, Victor._

_~Victoria_

Victoria fumbled with her letter. She couldn't fold it up for the ink was still wet. The footsteps were growing ever louder and quicker. Finally, finding no where else to put it, she stuffed the letter in a drawer just as her door lock clicked and Mrs. Everglot glided into the room like a ghost. She turned towards her daughter who tried to smile casually. After all, she had never hidden anything from her mother before.

"Good morning, mother," she said. "Did you sleep well?"

"Well enough," Mrs. Everglot answered sharply, as if Victoria had barged into _her_ room.

Victoria stood up and folded her hands in front of her, trying to make her face look forlorn. She bowed her head.

"Feeling depressed today, are we?" her mother asked, with a hint of amusement in her voice.

"Yes, mother," she said as convincingly as she could. "The days are long, and it is quite stuffy in here…" Victoria knew her mother wouldn't take the hint to open a window, but she might as well try.

Her mother, as she predicted, acted like she hadn't heard her and strode about the room, her beady eyes scanning the bedroom like a greedy hawk…almost as if she was looking for something. Victoria cast a worried glance to her desk drawer, but quickly averted her gaze so her mother wouldn't notice. She cleared her throat.

"Er…mother," she asked tentatively. "Do you need something?"

Her mother straightened up from looking under the sofa and turned to her daughter, a slightly wicked grin on her face.

"Actually, yes I do," she replied in a silky tone. "You see, mothers can always tell when their daughters are hiding something from them. You've been unusually cheerful these past weeks, and I intend to find out what it is, unless you are willing to be a proper young lady and tell me yourself."

Victoria stood dumbstruck. _She knows. But how?_ Her mother could never read her daughter; Victoria wasn't exactly an open book. She must have gotten the information from someone…but Hildegarde wouldn't say anything!

Victoria's mother's beady eyes finally rested on her daughter's writing desk. The ink was still laid out with the cap removed, and a wet quill hung from it, a dead giveaway. Mrs. Everglot strode over to the desk almost too casually and fingered the feather quill.

"My, my," she murmured. "Being creative, are we?"

Victoria's hands shook so violently, she hid them behind her back.

_This is terrible!_ She thought. _There are so many things in that letter that are strictly confidential…I spoke of Emily, too many lovey-dovey words between Victor and myself…but worse than that, I talked about my childhood and my own mother! She'll have my head!_

But Victoria kept her mouth shut, waiting for the inevitable thing to happen.

Mrs. Everglot's bony fingers traced over the desktop, over the feather quill, and finally reached the dull, brass handle of the drawer. She gave a small smile as she pulled it back and stared into its contents. Victoria hung her head and shut her eyes tight.

The long, pallid fingers reached in (it seemed like slow-motion to Victoria) and pulled out a stack of papers. Her mother leafed through them, looking over each one carefully, until she stopped, eyes as wide as dinner plates. She clenched the papers tight and pulled one sheet out, dropping the rest on the cold, wooden floor.

"_I knew it! What is the meaning of this?!"_ she cried. Victoria wanted to melt into the floorboards. The wedding was off for sure.

"Victoria, how dare you write something like this? Right under my nose, too!" She shook the paper in the girl's face, hers red with anger. "Haven't you learned a thing, you wretched girl? How many times have I said it is too passionate to write things like this! Oh, what will the neighbors think of me?" Mrs. Everglot collapsed in her chair and read over the paper again. "You know there is no such thing as a…as a…_a corpse bride!"_

Victoria's face was as red as a beet. She fidgeted with the sleeved of her black gown, waiting for her mother to say, "What impropriety! Writing secret letters behind my back when you shouldn't be speaking to anyone in the first place! That's it! You may never see that Van Dort boy again!" It broke her heart just thinking about it.

Finally, Mrs. Everglot stood up and turned to her daughter, whose legs were as shaky as jelly. The tall, ghoulish woman glared into her daughter's eyes. "How dare you befuddle your mind with such ludicrous _stories!_ Things like this do not exist in real life! My own daughter has gone mad!"

Victoria looked up, completely puzzled. "Excuse me, mother? A _story?"_

"Yes!" her mother snapped, as if a story was the worst thing in the world. "And I can't believe I let Hildegarde bring you those miserable books, filling your mind with such fantasy!"

Now Victoria really was confused. "Pardon?"

With an exasperated groan, Victoria's mother handed her the sheet of paper she had taken, but it wasn't the letter at all. It was the a section of the "story of the corpse bride" Victoria had written a while back:

"_Overcome with compassion for the corpse bride, the young bride knelt down and gathered up that old heap of bones, carefully arranging the shredded silk finery and holding her close, half sang, half murmured, as if cradling a crying infant, "Don't worry, I'll live your dreams for you. I'll live your hopes for you. I'll have your children for you. I'll have enough children for the two of us, and you can rest in peace knowing that our children and our children's children will be well cared for and will not forget us."_

"Oh, don't read that out loud, child!" said the dramatic mother. "I never want you to write anything so absurd again! Is that understood?"

Victoria – mouth gaped open at her sheer luck – could only nod.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**Whoa, that was a close one, no? Was there anybody reading who actually thought Mrs. Everglot had actually read the letter?**

**COMMENTS PLEASE!**

**3 FallenRose19**


	6. In the window again

**VI.**

It had been three days and Victoria still couldn't believe her stroke of luck. Her mother must have overlooked the letter and went straight for the story. Out of fear her mother would be snooping in her room again, Victoria hid Victor's letters in an old hat box and looked for a place to hide it.

Under the bed? Mother was afraid of getting down on her hands and knees. But no, it was still too obvious.

Victoria looked into her closet, but that seemed completely evident, as well. Even if her mother never looked into Victoria's furniture, she wanted it to be the most secretive hiding place just for her.

Moving across the room with the floorboards squeaking beneath her, the girl happened to pass her balcony. She looked out and sighed, wishing she could breathe in the fresh air once again, and perhaps even see a butterfly.

A particularly loud squeak issued from the floor when Victoria stepped on it. She looked down, an idea beginning to dawn on her. She remembered something she had read in a story once that she couldn't remember at the moment. The spot was right next to her bed, too, which was a convenience for her. The girl got down on all fours and slipped her fingers between the loose floorboards, prying it upwards. It wasn't that difficult, and soon the board had been completely removed, revealing an utterly empty and dusty space below the floor. She picked up the hatbox and slipped it through the hole, carefully replacing the plank on top. It was done so cleverly, not even Victoria thought she could remember the exact board.

Victoria had never felt so good about herself. She felt so clever, and hiding something from her mother felt exhilarating. She stood up, dusted off her black attire, and walked to her sofa next to the fireplace. She picked up the embroidery she had been working on since her mourning began and the blue thread, and sewed.

As she worked, she wondered again what was keeping Victor so long with his reply. He always wrote back without delay. What could be keeping him?

Victoria hesitated with her stitch. "I do hope I haven't offended him," she said to herself. "All those things I wrote about Emily and questioning if he loved her…perhaps he won't write back for fear of my feelings. He knows I love him, but maybe he doesn't love me back…?" The very thought made her shudder.

"It's possible," she thought sadly.

She suddenly realized she _could_ wait a year after all for his reply. She was too anxious.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Victor stared longingly out the window, clutching a letter in his hands. He looked up across the street into Victoria Everglot's bedroom window. The drapes were drawn, and he couldn't help but wonder if she deliberately wouldn't reply to his letter. Perhaps he offended her? No, he couldn't have. After all, the letter clearly explained that he cared for Emily, but not romantically. He loved Victoria more than anything, and deeply hoped he hadn't hurt her in any way.

"Victor, get over here!" a high, annoying voice shouted across the hallway. Victor sighed gloomily and set his letter from Victoria down on his desk.

"Yes, mother?" he shouted back from his doorway. _Perhaps I received a letter after all? _The thought made Victor's ears perk up.

"I want you to go fetch your father from the fish market! We all need to talk about something of great consequence. Well, go on now!"

Victor headed for the door a bit disappointed, yet eagerly, for lack of anything better to do. What could it possibly be that they all needed to talk about this hastily?

Victor sauntered out of the front door and down the stone steps. He looked up at the sky; gray and gloomy as always. He wished, just for one day, it would be sunny or warm or even snow, just for variety and change.

Victor nodded to elderly gentlemen in the streets with bored expressions. Victoria always had a lovely smile to brighten up any man's day…

Suddenly, something crashed against the back of Victor's knee, not too hard, but hard enough to make him stumble over his feet. Victor regained himself and craned around, surprised to see the little village boy, Samuel, running towards him, puffing heavily. He carried a short wooden stick in one hand. Lying beside Victor was a large wooden hoop toppled on its side. Samuel reached Victor and picked up his hoop.

"'Scuse…me…sir…" he said breathlessly. "I…lost it…"

When the boy had caught his breath, he clung to the hoop and looked up at Victor shyly.

Victor had always thought the child was much like him when he was a tot. Shy, timid, and lack of decision-making skills. Victor leaned down and patted the boy on his head.

"Quite all right, Sam," he said kindly. "New toy, I see."

Samuel blushed hard. He wasn't used to compliments. "Actually, it's an old toy. I found it in the attic this morning and thought I should try it out, Mr. Van Dort."

Victor waved his hand. "Just call me Victor. I hear you own a dog, too. Is that right?"

The boy perked up almost instantly. "Oh, yes! He's small and brown and his name's Truffles!"

Victor laughed. "How delightful. I had a dog once. His name was Scraps."

Sam giggled at the name. Victor had never had a more normal conversation with the adults in the village, besides Victoria. Children were so easy to talk to. They never expected you to be poised and proper. Children just liked to have fun, and Victor liked that very much.

Sam opened his mouth to reply when a loud screeching sound issued from the window above.

_"Samuel!" _a worried voice spoke. "You know you are not supposed to speak to strangers! You might be kidnapped or taken away or taken hostage or…!"

Samuel flinched at his mother's voice. Mrs. Knells had never been a cruel mother, but she was quite over-protective, and Victor didn't feel like informing the woman that all of those words she had used held the same definition.

Victor waved up at the woman sticking her head out of the dirty window like a lizard. "It's all right, Mrs. Knell. It's only me."

The woman squinted down at Victor's stickly figure and sighed with relief. "Oh, mercy, is that you, Mister Van Dort? Well, then, perfectly all right." At that, she turned her head back to her son. "And Samuel, don't forget dinner is at five sharp! We're having our relatives over!"

Sam groaned. _"Please _not Uncle Herald!"

Mrs. Knell did not answer, but retreated back into her house.

Sam sighed and turned to Victor. "Bye, Victor. I'll see you soon." He started to trudge away. Overcome with a surge of understanding and pity for the boy, Victor caught up to him.

"Don't let your old uncle get you down, Sam," he grinned. "He's probably not as terrible as _my_ mother, be grateful of that."

Sam covered up his mouth to hide a spurt of laughter. Everyone knew about Mrs. Van Dort's snobby demeanor and her thirst for riches and climbing the social ladder. This seemed to cheer Sam up a bit and he scurried off, this time waving before disappearing into his house.

Victor stood up straight, a little shocked and pleased with himself. He had never thought about insulting his mother, it was rude and highly improper. This would be the first and the last time he did it, but it felt exhilarating to speak his mind, even if it was to a ten-year-old.

Victor was almost at the fish market when he caught himself looking longingly up into Victoria's window again, as a habit. Victor loved children. Would he and Victoria ever have any? _Oh, my!_ The thought made Victor blush furiously and made him highly uncomfortable to even think about _having_ any children with Victoria! Still, perhaps in the future…

Wait a moment…Victor squinted at Victoria's window closer. The curtains had been drawn back a crack, and a warm brown eye peeked out carefully. The tall man took a step closer and the woman in the window drew back the curtains even further when she had seen him. Her hair was up in a bun and she wore all black, including a black veil that covered up her eyes. She lifted the short covering so she could see him better, and even from a distance, he could see her eyes light up.

Victoria!

Victor's heart leapt in his chest. He thought about waving to her,but caught himself, worried what others would think of this young man making contact to an even younger woman in mourning for her husband! He might get her into serious trouble. Then again, when he looked around, he could see no one was watching him. Quickly and inconspicuously, Victor waved his hand in a cheery gesture before gluing it down to his side again. Thankfully, the beautiful young girl had seen him. She smiled warmly and waved back.

But then, just as suddenly as she appeared, Victoria had vanished. Victor wasn't even sure how it happened. One moment she was there, the next, the curtains had been drawn sharply and she had gone.

Before Victor even had time to think, a kind voice drifted towards his ears.

"Victor, my boy, there you are!"

Startled, Victor spun around to see that he was standing right in front of the fish market. His father, William, limped over to his son, leaning on his cane and smiling broadly. Victor was grateful very much for his father. Victor resembled him for one thing. His tall, stickly figure, dark hair (even though his father's was graying and thinning) long fingers, chest, everything was very similar. William Van Dort patted his son on the back kindly.

"And how are you today, son? Come to assist me out here?"

Victor shook his head good-naturedly. "That does sound tempting, father. But mother wants you home straight away…she says it's of 'great consequence'."

"Well, then," William put his arm around his son's shoulder. "Mustn't keep the old girl waiting. As patient as a tadpole, she is."

Victor chuckled, and they were on their way home.

It still puzzled Victor why Victoria came away from the window so hurriedly, as if she didn't want to be seen.

_Yes,_ he thought as they reached the front steps and he helped his father up. _Quite curious._

oOoOoOoOoOoOo


	7. A face on the street

**VII.**

It was later on that cloudy day, and Victoria was just about ready to chew up her pillows with boredom. She wished something moving would happen. The only excitement she had gotten out of this day was the hiding of her secret letters under the floorboards, and the thrill had long since passed.

The girl had risen from her bed and made her way nonchalantly towards the window. She pulled back the heavy drapes and stared longingly out the foggy glass and to the normally boring people out in the streets. For a moment, she wished she would be able to see Victor again – it had been so long – but her hopes sank immediately. She still waited for his letter to arrive.

But something odd did happen. Victoria squinted to see if her eyes were playing tricks on her. A tall, skinny man walked only across the street from her window. Her heart leapt in her chest. His dark hair flowed across his eyes, and he brushed his bangs away irritably. Victoria couldn't be sure it was he – and she knew how improper it was to stare – so she pulled the curtains up so only her one eye peeked out.

Surprisingly, the young man was already staring up in her direction. Victoria, now heartily convinced it was her Victor, drew back the curtains and grinned down at him through her veil. He raised his hand and waved hesitantly. Victoria's face lit up and she raised her hand to do the same.

She had just smiled down at Victor when she noticed her reflection in the window and her hand held up in a wave. But through the reflective glass, she wasn't alone. A bony, skeletal hand was resting on her tiny shoulder. Victoria barely had time to gasp when the hand yanked her sharply from the window, letting the heavy drapes cut off the little light that had streaked through the glass.

Mrs. Everglot spun her daughter to face her, and by the look on her face, the mother was even more angry than usual. Victoria almost wished it _were_ a skeleton.

"What is the meaning of this?" the ghoulish woman croaked.

Victoria turned up her eyes as innocently as she could. "I was merely getting a breath of fresh air, mother."

Mrs. Everglot raised one eyebrow in amusement and took her hand out from behind her back.

"Not the window, Victoria," she said, almost coldly. Mrs. Everglot held out an envelope to Victoria, whose breath caught in her throat.

"Read it out loud, dear," the woman's ugly features curled into a wicked grin. Victoria's hands trembled as she reached for the letter and read with a shaky voice.

"'To Victoria Everglot,'" she swallowed. "'Sincerely, Mister Van Dort."

Victoria's mother waved her hand to encourage her daughter to open up the envelope. "Go on," she said.

At that moment, Victoria wished more than anything that she could melt into the floor. Her cheeks burned as she slowly slit open the wax seal with her finger and pulled out the single piece of parchment within. So Victor _had_ written after all. But how did her mother get her hands on this? Would Hildegarde ever tell?

"'Dear Victoria,'" she read, but couldn't go on. Her voice had escaped and she was afraid of what her mother would think if she read the rest. Her eyes went in and out of focus and the words blurred together on the page. Whether Victor was angry or not, it didn't matter. To Mrs. Everglot, romance was highly unseemly. And if Maudeline Everglot has an opinion it hardly matters what anyone else thinks.

Victoria stood there dumbly with the piece of paper quivering in her hands as Mrs. Everglot looked on.

"Toss it into the fire, then," mother finally said. Victoria didn't need to be told twice. She hurriedly made her way to the crackling fire and tossed the crumpled letter into the flames. It quickly turned black and shriveled like a decaying hand. The girl gave a silent sigh of relief, even though she knew she would never have another chance to read it.

Mrs. Everglot brushed off her maroon dress and looked critically at Victoria's black attire. "Whatever you and Victor Van Dort have been writing, I want it to discontinue immediately. It is highly unorthodox…"

"Will you call off the wedding?" Victoria asked. She hardly cared that she had interrupted.

Her mother blinked. "What on Earth for?"

The young girl looked up, perplexed. "Well, we were not supposed to communicate until the year was up for the mourning and…we disobeyed."

Her mother stuck her chin in the air. "Not if anyone else knows of this scandalous act. You are not to mention it to a soul. There are no more eligible bachelors in this bloody town, and Vincent Van Dort is…"

"Victor," Victoria quietly corrected.

Mrs. Everglot gave her daughter an irritated glance for interrupting. _"Victor_ Van Dort is our only hope."

Victoria stared at her mother blankly, pretending to listen to the following lecture. But her mind was still lingering on the letter and her incomprehensible strokes of luck these past months. But she had been waiting for that letter for days and she couldn't even read it. Will she ever know what Victor wanted to tell her?

When Mrs. Everglot had finally finished lecturing and turned to leave, something had just hit Victoria.

"Uh…mother?" she asked as quietly as she could. The woman turned on her heel to face her daughter and stared at her somewhat impatiently. Victoria continued, bowing her head so the black veil covered her face. "How did you know about the letters, may I ask?"

Mrs. Everglot rolled her eyes with annoyance. "I was a bit suspicious with that Hildegarde from the beginning, always insisting that she would retrieve the mail. I intercepted the post a few days ago and found your little love note." She gestured to the fireplace. "And that maid will never be coming back, I assure you. We'll have to hire a new housemaid…"

Victoria was taken aback. "You…you fired Hildegarde? But it wasn't her fault! It was all mine! Mother, please…"

"Silence, child!" Mrs. Everglot boomed, tired of being interrupted. "She was untrustworthy, and it is none of your business whom I hire! Now I never want you speaking out of turn again! Do you understand?"

The poor girl hung her head in shame and nodded slightly.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

AUTHOR'S NOTE

**Ug. Sorry it took so long to update…and it doesn't do me any justice that this chapter is so short. My computer crashed yet again, and though it was working later, the Internet went down. Just my luck.**

**Thank you for the comments! I got one asking why Victoria would write about rabbis and wedding dances in 19****th**** century London or wherever they are, when she wrote that folktale. I'm gonna say that the Corpse Bride was probably more set near the 1800's, but Burton didn't really say. Anyway, I know, I know, why **_**would**_** Victoria care about rabbis? I thought about it, too. But I didn't want to change the folktale, and Victoria reads a lot, so maybe she was learning about…rabbis? Haha. Well, close enough. Can anyone else think of something better? Post it up for me to read! That'd be awesome!**

**Don't worry; the story is coming to a close. Nothing very exciting, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. **


	8. After all?

**VIII.**

And so, the letters ceased to commute between the Romeo and Juliet. Victoria was utterly ashamed of herself for getting Hildegarde fired – the only mother figure in her life. Hildegarde was there for motherly affection when her own mother would just slap her in the face. She still wondered what Victor had written in that letter of his, but she guessed she would have to wait a few more months to know for sure. She surely missed Victor Van Dort dearly. No matter how many times she prayed for him to be about in the streets so she could catch a glimpse of him, he never showed up.

_Just as well, I suppose, _thought Victoria to herself as she drew back her heavy burgundy drapes to stare into the gray streets again. _I assume his parents told him to stop writing as well…my mother would never miss a chance to remind them how important our family is compared to theirs…_

Victoria snorted to herself. Yes, they used to be rich, but before they knew it they were left without a penny to their names. And so her parents' only option to save them from the poor house was marrying off their daughter to one of a richer family, in this case, the Van Dorts.

She sighed for the thousandth time in the past few months. She had lost count over time.

The girl dressed in black let the drapes fall back over the windows and dragged her feet over to her wardrobe. She get down on her knees and opened up the bottom drawer once again. The white paper holding the precious gift from the corpse bride was still concealed inside. Victoria took up the white paper gently and unwrapped it carefully. She lightly touched the dried up flowers with the bluish tint she loved so much. The faint sweet smell lingered.

Suddenly, there was a loud knock on her bedroom door. Victoria startled and nearly dropped the bouquet. She hastily wrapped it back up and stowed it back in the drawer, shutting it and standing upright just as her mother and father both walked into the room. Victoria tried her best to look innocent. She bowed her head and folded her hands in front of her.

"Victoria!" her mother sounded relieved to see her daughter. This was a first. "We have terrible news! Don't we, Finis?" she cried hysterically.

"Yes quite," her father replied with much indifference.

Victoria's heart skipped, but settled down again. What could possibly be wrong?

"Daughter," Mr. Everglot said. "As you are well aware, we have absolutely no money left in our…"

"No money!" her mother cried, furiously fanning herself as if she would faint. Mr. Everglot cleared his throat quite irritably and continued.

"…left with us. We are in deep debt and doubt if we will even be able to keep this house."

Victoria nodded.

"We will surely starve!" her mother cried. "Or _worse!_ What will the whole town think of us? We will be shamed forever!"

Victoria tried very hard not to role her eyes. Her tolerance level seemed to disintegrate with the many months of being locked up in her room.

"As I was saying," her father cut in sharply. "We do not have much time left before foreclosure, and we need money as soon as possible. Do you understand, Victoria?"

Victoria nodded. She had no idea what this man what getting at.

Her mother regained control. "So we must do it, Victoria. Of course, I trust the neighbors don't keep track of us very well, so we should slink by it. There are only a few months left as it is."

Victoria couldn't take it anymore. She let out her breath slowly. "What on earth are you speaking of, Madame?"

Mrs. Everglot glared at her daughter's sudden outburst. She lifted her chin in distain. "Your wedding, child, of course. We must get you married to that Vincent boy as soon as…"

"It's _Victor,"_ Victoria corrected breathlessly. Was she…going to be married sooner than she thought?

"…as soon as possible," Mrs. Everglot finished. "The wedding will take place tomorrow morning whether you are in favor or not." She turned on her heel and sauntered out of the door. Lord Everglot turned to follow his wife and waddled out the door, slamming it in turn.

Victoria slumped down in a nearby chair and felt her forehead to make sure she wasn't feverish. Was it true?

Was she really about to marry Victor Van Dort come morning?

….

Now readers, you all know the feeling of pure excitement the night before a huge event about to take place. You're stomach is swarming with anxious butterflies. You jump into your bed early, hoping to make the night pass by in a blur of speed so the morning can come up faster. But the whole night you lie in bed, wide-awake and staring wide-eyed at the dark ceiling, every once in a while glancing at the clock ticking on the wall. It's then you become conscious that the old grandfather clock's tick is much louder than usual, and is keeping you awake. You sit up in bed and look around the room, taking it all in. You then look out the window and realize that it's the moonlight keeping you awake. So you kick off the blankets and make your way to the window, shutting the curtains tight so as no light can creep in. You snuggle under your comforter once again, ready to fall asleep. But, are the blankets making you too hot? You kick them off, and suddenly you're thirsty.

To make a long story short, any night before a birthday, a holiday, a trip, or a wedding is going to take longer than you think.

This is exactly what Victoria was going through in bed that night. Try as hard as she might to sleep, her mind just wouldn't stop swimming with questions. She hadn't even finished her year of mourning yet and the next day she would be free of this house and her parents? She'd actually be living with Victor Van Dort? Would she really feel the cool breeze on her face again?

Victoria turned over onto her other side. She hadn't been able to see, let alone, speak to Victor for months. Wouldn't it be quite awkward between them?

Her stomach hurt. She was both scared and excited at the same time. The girl turned her head to glance over at the clock ticking unusually loudly on her wall.

She wondered if Victor was feeling just as nervous.

….

Victor Van Dort could not seem to fall asleep. It was already one in the morning and he was wide-awake and staring up at the dark ceiling. It all happened so fast. One minute he was engaging in quite a normal conversation with his father, when his mother comes in all in an excited flurry almost screaming that the wedding would take place tomorrow morning. Victor remembered his completely shocked expression. Was he really going to see Victoria again?

The first thing that went through his mind was, "I can barely strike up a conversation as it is! How in the world am I going to talk to a beautiful woman I am in love with without tripping up my words?"

Victor sat up in his bed, knowing he wasn't going to get any sleep at this point. He quietly crept across the floor and sat at his desk, randomly flipping through books and sketches of his to hopefully make him sleepy. But something caught his eye in the corner of the old desk. It was a relatively small brown box with a limp ribbon tied around it. A smile almost came to Victor's lips when he reached for it, carefully untying the pale pink ribbon and removing the lid.

The shy young man picked out a stack of letters in rain-washed envelopes; all had the exact same return address in the left hand corner with the same slanted, delicate handwriting. He flipped through the letters that had been passed to him from Victoria Everglot. He read each one again and again; feeling more relaxed as he imagined her own voice reading them aloud to him.

_By this time tomorrow night,_ he thought nervously, _I'll be able to hear her voice for real._

….

"Victoria! Wake up! The wedding starts in two hours and you're still sleeping?"

The girl blinked groggily and sat up with great difficulty. Her heavy drapes were jerked back and she was blinded for a moment. Victoria rubbed her eyes and yawned sleepily.

Then it hit her like running into a thick cement wall: she was getting married today.

Victoria didn't know what she expected when she opened her eyes, but it most certainly wasn't her mother's ugly face glowering down at her. She jumped when her mother spoke again.

"Get up and get dressed, daughter," she said. "We must get to the church at once. Alice will assist you with your corsets."

Victoria looked over to the door where a touch-looking old lady stood. She wasn't nearly as ancient as Hildegarde had been, but was definitely old. She curtsied as Mrs. Everglot floated from the room and closed the door behind her. Alice walked swiftly over to Victoria and nodded courteously.

The girl smiled shyly. "It's nice to meet you, Alice," she said.

Alice nodded in turn, but didn't say a word. Instead, she began immediately undressing her new mistress (for now, at least), and lacing up her corsets. Victoria sucked in her stomach and was greeted with the familiar tugging against her ribcage. As horrible as it sounds, she was excited to see Victor again and not having to deal with living in the same house as her mother and father. Alice didn't speak a word, but began combing out the snarls in Victoria's brown hair that still felt damp from last night's bath. The girl decided that conversation was impossible at this point and just decided to sit quietly and let the woman continue with her work.

Finally, the maid bustled over to the wardrobe and pulled out a very large, flat box. She laid it on the bed and pulled out the plain white dress within. Victoria cocked her head to get a better look at it. The only difference between her wedding dress and all the other gowns in her closet was that this one was white. It had no extravagant features whatsoever, no silver designs, no sparkles, and it barely had a train. It was so plain Victoria sighed out loud. Even the veil was boring.

She had never thought about it before. When she had last worn this dress she wasn't even thinking about how she looked as always. But she remembered Emily's long flowing veil and the crown of flowers upon her brow. Her hair wasn't imprisoned in a bun, but cascading down her back. Victoria couldn't help but smile at the memory. Emily was indeed very beautiful, even for a corpse.

Victoria stepped into the wedding dress and buttoned it up, her maid fussing to do it herself. She decided not to complain. After all, this would be the last time anyone told her how to dress.

Alice led her to the mirror and Victoria checked herself out. Plain, as always. Her eyes were plain brown, much like her hair, which was swept back into a tight bun. Her insides hurt as usual with the corset laced up tightly below that boring white dress. In the light, it almost looked a gray.

But perhaps she could spice up herself a bit more? After all, it was her wedding day. Alice scurried out of the room and nervously called for Victoria to follow.

"I'll be there in a moment," the girl replied, making her way over to her wardrobe and kneeling beside it. The maid looked like she wanted to stop her, but hurried from the room instead. Victoria ignored her and pulled out the bottom drawer where the precious bouquet was unwrapped by Victoria's gentle hands. She lifted the fragile flowers from the drawer and cradled them in her arms as though she was cradling a crying infant.

"I'm getting married today," she told it. "And I would be honored if you joined me."

….

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**Now this is the length of a chapter I'm talking about! It's been so long since I've written this story, and I really love writing this one. Thanks for reading Corpse Bride fanfics! I really don't think it's getting as much attention as it deserves.**

All characters belong to Tim Burton, except Alice the maid. She's a little fusspot, isn't she?

**Until the end, then!**


	9. The End

**Dear patient readers,**

I had to edit this chapter and repost it, because someone pointed out a major plot point was missing. As it turns out, I apparently deleted it by mistake. But all is well and the end of this story makes a lot more sense. Thank you, Rehema! I could not sleep without fixing this problem immediately, and I feel incredibly stupid, but at least we have solved the problem!

**Thank you for your enduring patience!**

**-FallenRose19**

**IX.**

"Watch your step now, Miss Victoria."

Victoria took the driver's hand and he helped her down from her carriage. She blinked in the morning light. The sky was it's usual rainy gray, but something seemed different in the air today. Victoria took a deep breath and let the scents of dew on grass and rain fill her lungs. It was quite nice to be outside again, and she stifled a quiet smile when she saw a small flower poking out of the grass. She barely had time to marvel at the outdoors she had missed for so many months when her mother hurried her along up the steps of the church. Victoria was rather surprised that her ghoulish mother did not say but a word about her choice of a bouquet. The dried up flowers crackled a little bit in her hands, and Victoria loosened her grip. She had not realized she was so nervous.

"Come, daughter."

Victoria blinked at being addressed so, and felt even more befuddled as she saw her stout father offering an arm to her. She took it hesitantly, knowing how much her parents disapproved of physical contact. Finis straightened up to his full height – which, admittedly, was no higher than Victoria's waist – and puffed out his chest like a robin. He nodded curtly to his daughter as if to say, "This is as good as it is going to get," and then nodded to the servant to open the large, oak doors of the church.

_"Lord, give me strength,"_ Victoria prayed silently.

Meanwhile, Victor Van Dort stood rigid at the altar, trying very hard not to play with his cravat entirely too much. He was so nervous, more so than he had ever felt in his life. He paid no mind to his parents trying to get his attention in the front pew; for once he was in his own thoughts in his own mind, and the only thing on his mind was his lovely Victoria. He wondered if she had this feeling of butterflies fluttering around in her stomach just as he did. His thoughts were all over the place, aflutter with anxiety and some excitement for that moment where he would be able to see his beloved face to face after months of waiting.

Finally, the doors of the large church swung open and Victor thought his heart must have caught in his throat. There in the dim morning glow, stood Victoria Everglot with her father, Finis, at her side. He saw her soft, brown eyes light up as she saw him and she immediately flushed a deep shade of pink and averted her eyes to the floor. Victor felt a huge weight lift from his chest, and he wondered why he had been so nervous. Just laying eyes on her made him feel so calm and at peace…he felt like he belonged somewhere.

When Victoria finally walked up the aisle and made it to the altar, she bent over and kissed her father on the top of his shiny, balding head. Surprisingly, Finis did not utter a complaint or even a grunt. He merely nodded and went slowly to his seat next to his wife. Finally, finally, Victoria was standing a breath away from him. He stared long and hard at her face, taking in absolutely every detail, memorizing. Besides the dark circles under her eyes from lack of daylight, she looked just as beautiful as she did when he first met her just a few months ago. She wore the same white wedding dress and veil as before, but something was different. He looked down at her bouquet of blue tinted flowers and a small smile came to his lips. He looked right into Victoria's eyes and she smiled back. He had never seen her look happier. Her smile was so big she had dimples on her rosy cheeks. Who knew?

"Now, then," Pastor Gaswells cleared his throat and the lovers quickly drew their attention to the pastor. The old, grouchy-looking man opened up his thick Bible and began reading some passages in a loud, booming voice. Victoria knew she should be paying attention, but she had a very difficult time when Victor kept stealing glances at her and she would return them with sparkling eyes. When the pastor had finished quite a while later, he announced that the young couple would be saying their vows. Victor had practiced his vows all night long, and he was only feeling a little twinge of nervousness as he offered his hand to his lovely bride. She took it. Her hand was so warm.

"With this hand," he said, taking three steps up to the table. "I will lift your sorrows…"

Victoria listened intently as Victor's pupils pored into hers, promising her from the bottom of his heart that he would forever be hers. He pulled a golden ring from his coat pocket and only fumbled with it once before slipping it onto her finger as he said, "With this ring, I ask you to be mine."

Victoria closed her eyes and thought, _Yes, yes, yes._

…..

Of course, the Van Dort and Everglot wedding was quite dull and uneventful to any family member or casual onlooker, but it had to be admitted that the looks exchanged between the bride and groom were enough to put a smile on anyone's face. Neither complained about the tiny, slap-dash wedding feast and cake, they just enjoyed every waking moment together. They barely exchanged words (for they knew everyone would be listening) but their glances said more than words ever could.

At one point, when Victor's mother complained loudly about the chicken tasting undercooked, Victor leaned over to Victoria and whispered in her ear, "It's fish, actually." Victoria gave a spurt of laughter and covered her mouth promptly, with her tiny hand. Mrs. Everglot glared, but did not say a word.

Victoria could not remember the last time she laughed.

When the feast – if you would like to call it that – was finished and the unknown relatives grumbled goodbyes, Victor Van Dort was more than happy to take his bride by the hand and lead her off to the street, where the carriage was waiting. Victoria was equally pleased that they did not have to spend the honeymoon at one of their parents' houses. Victor's parents, now growing in wealth since their fish business took off, owned a summer home in the countryside, and Victoria was very excited to see the place. She wanted alone time to catch up with her new husband.

As the carriage pulled away from the house she grew up in, Victoria pulled her eyes away from the dull, grey past and looked into the timid face of Victor sitting across from her. He reached over and took her hand in his.

"This is…very odd," he said, scrutinizing her with his gaze. "I mean, it is as though we were never apart."

Victoria nodded wholeheartedly. "Oh, I could not agree more. I feel as though we were talking just yesterday."

Victor cocked his head to the side, gazing at Victoria's lap, where the bouquet of the corpse bride was being cradled. His eyes met his wife's.

"I have a feeling that you two would have been great friends."

Victoria's eyes widened considerably. It was probably the strangest yet most thoughtful thing anyone had ever said to her. She was instantly reminded of Emily – her beauty, her lovely disposition, and the fact that Emily put her love for Victor aside to make him happy.

She looked down, rather shyly. "I can never thank her enough."

Victor shook his head. "I don't think you will have to."

Victoria fiddled with her bouquet, staring down at it as though it would give her the answer she wanted. "Victor?"

He nodded, encouraging her to go on.

She took a deep breath. "Your last letter you sent to me was…well…confiscated," she finished. Victor said nothing. "And, well…I asked a very significant question and I was wondering about…you answer."

The man nodded slowly. "Ah, yes. I recall. You asked me if I was ever in love with the corpse bride." Victoria's brown eyes were like a doe's as she waited for his answer. He looked out the carriage window, as if pondering his reply. She waited with bated breath. "At first I found her…well, a corpse, really. On spending more time with her, however, I realized that she was a very engaging person, once I got over the fact that she was, indeed, deceased."

She waited.

"I felt so ashamed of myself when I had deceived her to visit you," he continued. "We got along well after that, and when I heard that you were to marry Lord Barkis, well, I lost hope of ever being with you again. So I…"

"You decided to marry Emily," Victoria finished, a little disheartened that Victor had bounced back so quickly.

He shrugged. "I was being careless. Emily was…sweet. She obviously had feelings for me and though I did not return them, I figured, what other choice do I have?"

He chuckled at himself. "I should have seen that you would never marry Barkis if it were not for your parents, but again, I was rash and thought all hope was lost." He looked up at his bride, who blinked under his hard gaze. "Emily gave me the gift of life and happiness with you. No, I never loved her romantically, and she knew that. From the moment I first saw you, Victoria, I had never doubted for a second that you were the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with."

There were tears in her eyes now. Victor smiled, and it made Victoria's heart leap and her face glow. Unable to resist the urge any longer, she left her seat and sat next to Victor. She was told that a proper lady should never stand up in a carriage, but she had a respectful disregard for the rules lately, and tonight was no exception. She snuggled up against his chest as he wrapped his loving arms around her.

He leaned in so she could feel his breath on her face, and before she knew what he was doing, his lips met hers. She blinked in surprise at first, but almost immediately sank deeper into him, closing her eyes and resting her hands on his chest. She loved him. He loved her. And the memory of Emily would forever be preserved and never forgotten.

For that is what the name of a brown haired and blue-eyed baby would be named.

The End.


End file.
